


i'd burn them for you (if you want me to)

by benditlikepress



Category: NCIS
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s10e12 Shiva, just about.. it's up to you whether you think this could be canon compliant or divergent tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikepress/pseuds/benditlikepress
Summary: Tony goes to visit Ziva after she returns from Eli’s funeral.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	i'd burn them for you (if you want me to)

**Author's Note:**

> this was a tumblr prompt and inspired by a scene from Marcella. I’ve used a bit of dialogue from that scene, full details in the end note
> 
> title from bobby by (sandy) alex g

In spite of declaring to himself that he was very much Not Going to Worry About Ziva While She’s in Israel, Tony had felt himself subconsciously counting the days she’d been away in anticipation of her return after Eli’s funeral. So much so that when the day finally arrived, he was awash with a sense of relief that he couldn’t quite place.

She’d sent him a message when she was boarding her flight back to DC and he’d had half a mind to go and meet her at the airport. He’d talked himself out of it, not wanting to seem overbearing, particularly as tiredness had been clouding his brain and he couldn’t workout the time-zone hopping she would be doing and how exhausted she was likely to be when she landed just before 7am DC time.

He’d watched her plane land on an online tracker with one eye while getting ready for work, figuring she wouldn’t think to send him a message letting him know she’d landed. As it turned out, she did, a brief one with a promise to see him soon and a full-stop and a kiss at the end.

Tony knew that his thoughts surrounding her return went beyond an ordinary concern for a co-worker who had just lost someone in violent circumstances, and so he tried to sound non-committal when McGee asked if he’d heard if Ziva was home. His curt reply earned him a “take that as a yes” as McGee walked past his desk to head to interrogation.

The fact the case wasn’t quite wrapped up was enough incentive for him to leave her to settle back in at home after a week away, in spite of her message, but when the next night brought along with it a full confession, Tony took it as a sign. 

They didn’t always ring before visiting each other, but Tony still rang her mobile as he left work. She didn’t answer, but that wasn’t that unusual. He’d been sure, early in their partnership, she ignored calls from him on purpose. 

The roads were clear and he got to her apartment just as it was getting dark. As he left the parking garage he saw the old woman who lived across from Ziva struggling to juggle two shopping bags and her keys to get in the building and jogged up to her, taking the bags from her hands. She startled and looked up at him but softened when she saw his face.

“Agent DiNozzo. You’re a life saver.”

“No problem, Mrs P. You heading upstairs?”

“Yes. You too?”

“Uh-huh. Have you seen Ziva since she got back yesterday?”

“Oh, you know what she’s like. It’s difficult to keep track of her schedule. I think I heard her leaving early this morning though, she likes to run when the sun comes up.”

Tony smiled at her as the entered the elevator, finding a comfort in the normal sense of routine.

He dropped Mrs P and her bags on her doorstep and headed down the hallway to Ziva’s apartment, but before he had a chance to ring the buzzer he sensed a presence behind him exiting the stairwell.

"Tony."

He turned at his name. Ziva was wearing workout gear, her hair tied back high on her head, and there were visible bags under her eyes.

“Oh, hey. I was just about to..” He signalled her door and mimed pressing the buzzer. “I tried calling.”

“I left my phone upstairs.”

“Another run?”

“Sorry?”

“Mrs P said she heard you leave early this morning.”

“Oh – yes. I am just trying to blow the ant’s nests away. My sleeping pattern has not yet reset.”

She breezed past him and into the apartment and he tried to disguise his concern at quite how out of breath she was. As though she’d been out for a long time.

“Cobwebs.”

“Hmm?” By the time Tony entered the apartment Ziva was in the kitchen, checking her phone to his missed call.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I need to take a shower. There is no food in the fridge but I think there is beer, help yourself.”

“You want me to order in?”

“Um, I am not hungry. But feel free to get something for yourself.”

A moment of silence passed, a long look shared, before Ziva turned away and disappeared towards the bathroom.

* * *

The pizza place around the corner from Ziva’s apartment had become Tony’s favourite over the years, and he’d placed the usual order before he’d even heard Ziva turn on the shower.

Tony had always felt comfortable in Ziva’s apartment, having spent so many evenings of their relationship there rather than at his, but he felt like an intruder then. The apartment was clean, and looked un-lived in. There was an unopened stack of mail on the breakfast bar and Tony thumbed the top – a card in a white envelope, Ziva’s name written carefully. He didn’t have to open it or the similar envelopes underneath to know they were condolence cards.

He sat down on the edge of the sofa and flicked through the channels for a few minutes. He heard the shower shut off and then a minute or so passed before Ziva emerged from the bathroom and crossed the hallway in a towel. Her eyes stuck on him, unreadable, as she approached her bedroom door and pulled it closed to give herself privacy.

The pizza arrived and Tony accepted it readily. He set the table with two plates and two bottles of beer, putting the box down in the middle.

When Ziva re-emerged her hair was soaking wet with just the hints of curls starting to form. She was wearing yoga pants and a vest and a chunky knit cardigan, but his gaze was drawn to her collarbones. They seemed to be sticking out a little more than usual.

Perhaps in another circumstance he would've commented on it but he could already sense the fragility of the conversation between them. He didn't want to push his luck only for her to clam up.

Instead, he silently placed a few slices of pizza on a plate and pushed it in front of the seat opposite him. He was pleased when she sat down and began eating, big bites accentuated by the silence between them, though he suspected it was for his benefit.

She sat with one foot on the seat of the chair, knee in front of her chest. It was a childish pose and one he wouldn't generally associate with her. Ziva asked him what they'd been working on while she was gone and Tony gave more detail than she'd presumably been looking for, using it as a route to engage her in conversation. She nodded, interested, and asked questions, though she was still slightly practiced and measured.

Most of the pizza was finished when Ziva's phone started ringing and she put down her slice and wiped her hands before slipping it out of her pocket.

"Hello. Yes, sorry I forgot to call. Yes, I am settled. Tony is here, we're having dinner. No. Yes, possibly. I think a couple of days." Ziva dismissed herself from the table and began talking in Hebrew as she went into the kitchen.

Tony continued to eat as he listened, picking up the odd word here and there. He heard his own name - once sprinkled into the middle of the conversation, and again, near the end before she hung up.

"Sorry about that. I promised I would ring Schmiel yesterday when I got home but it slipped my mind."

"He alright?"

"Oh, he is fine. Just checking up on me."

"You guys talking about me?"

"A little. He was checking up on you too - apparently you have made quite the impact."

He wasn't sure he bought it, but she was smiling, and that seemed good enough for now.

They finished eating and Ziva cleared the table. It was clear she was starting to relax now, the energy that had accompanied her arrival in the hallway dissipating.

Tony took her movement as an invitation to move into the living area and waited for her to return before sitting down. She had two new bottles of beer in hand when she did and offered him one absently as they sat on the sofa. Tony sat down straight, initially, but soon found himself turning his legs towards Ziva so he could face her and placing his arm along the back of the sofa. She sat down facing him with her legs tucked underneath her and it surprised him – how open the gesture was. Encouraging, or maybe just anticipating, conversation that would follow.

“How was the funeral?”

Ziva smirked a little, an unfitting gesture, as though she’d been waiting for it. “Strange. Uncomfortable. There are a lot of my father’s associates who I have not seen eye to eye with in recent years. And a lot I am certain he did not see eye to eye with, either."

"Political, huh?"

"You can imagine. It was difficult to keep a straight face at some of the people who came to me to tell me how much they respected my father. It felt like a circus. I can only think how much you would have hated all of that."

“As soon as you left I regretted not going with you.”

“Given your history with him, I would never have expected you to attend.”

“It’s not about me. History is irrelevant.”

“At least, unlike them, I know you are telling the truth when you say that.”

They fell into silence. Tony strummed his fingers slowly on the back of the sofa as he watched Ziva’s expression.

"It was Jackie's funeral not long after you left. Pretty rough, to be honest."

Her eyes widened briefly. "I did not think about it. I feel awful I was not there."

“I don’t think anyone would’ve expected you to be.”

"Still, I wish I could have been there. I think it is important to have time to say goodbye."

"Did you? Even with the funeral?"

"Yes, I did. I was apprehensive about being away for so long but it gave me opportunity to spend time on my own and reflect."

“How’ve you been?”

Ziva sighed. She was leaning close to where his arm lay and he would’ve found it easy to reach out and touch her but refrained as she searched for words. “That is a difficult question to answer. My emotions were changing like the wind while I was away.”

“It’s a lot to process. Especially when you haven’t been home in so long, after everything that’s happened.”

"I did not expect to react like this."

"You shouldn't feel guilty about that. No matter what anyone thought about him - even you, he's still your dad."

"I know it is not exactly the same as Ari, but I cannot help but feel similarly."

"I don't wanna sound blunt, I know you loved him, but that was different. Your father was murdered and all of us wanna find out who did it. And we _will_ – I told you we're gonna get him. We will. That's a DiNozzo promise."

Her smile could barely be called that, more of a grimace as she looked away across the room.

“I know what you are thinking, Tony.”

“What’s that?”

“You are worried about what my next plan is.”

He wasn’t thinking about that at all, actually. He was thinking about the first night after she’d left for Israel, worry coursing through his veins, when he’d fallen asleep with his face buried in his pillow inhaling the scent of her that had been left behind. Still, it wasn’t the right time to tell her that. In fact he wasn’t sure there’d ever been a worse time, save a couple of weeks back in 2009 where they’d barely been able to say hello without starting a blazing row.

"Do you _have_ a plan?"

"It is like you said. We will get him."

"And it's as simple as that? For you?"

"I feel like whatever answer I give is not going to satisfy you."

“Don’t do this, Ziva.”

“Do what?”

“Freeze me out. Not again – not after everything that’s happened.”

The words and their implications hung in the air. Ziva picked at the label on her beer bottle.

“I thought about you while I was gone.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I’m sorry – for how I acted before I left. I know you were trying to help.”

“You really don’t need to apologise for that.”

"I wish you would stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Letting me off the hook for things. I do not deserve it."

It was impressive; the way she'd changed the subject. Steered him away from questions of revenge and onto other things she knew needed discussing that were more palatable for her right now.

Tony flexed his fingers where his free arm rested on his leg and he tracked her eyeline down to them. He wondered if she was aware he was distracting himself from the desire to reach out and touch her - offer physical comfort or affection that he didn't think he should be the one to instigate.

She scooted closer, absently, and leaned against the sofa, her shoulder now lightly against his forearm.

"Just the kind of guy I am. A real stand-up."

Ziva chuckled. "Well if nothing else, your ability to diffuse tension remains unparalleled."

"Who said anything about tension?"

"Tension is not the right word. But you can be diplomatic, in spite of your hatred of that realm."

"Think I've just learned to pick my battles."

"You believe you know me well enough by now." Tony shrugged and made a noise of hesitance. "I find that a little reassuring, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Having so much on my mind has been.." She hesitated, still picking her words carefully. Exhaled through her open mouth. "It is interesting how death brings up so much you had buried. Things I am still trying to voice."

"I'm listening."

“I did not see much of my father after my parents split up. Barely at all, in fact, until my mother died. By that time I was getting older and he saw in myself and Ari the potential for the kind of legacy he had dreamed of in his children. Ari resented him. But I was not like Ari – in spite of what had happened with Orli, I think I just.. wished to impress him. I thought if I could become a good soldier, a good agent, that he would provide for me the things he had withheld before.”

Things were spilling out of her now and it was in such contrast to how she'd been when he arrived - no longer quiet or poised, or concerned with what he was going to ask. Maybe the predictability of his actions was proving to be a positive. A reassurance he wasn't going anywhere.

Her eyes misted over slightly but Tony didn't react, waiting to see how she would respond first. She looked down at her hand and ran it over the fabric of her trousers.

Tony couldn’t help but cast his mind back to a young Ziva, so keen for her father’s approval and love, and the way that he tried to mold others into his way of seeing the world. It was something that had stuck with him even after Tony had known him and seen the two of them interact. What had happened in Tel Aviv after Michael. He wasn’t sure what gave him away, maybe the way his jaw could tense when he was holding something back, but Ziva stopped talking and watched him. “I know what you’re about to say.”

“I’m not gonna say anything. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I know he was not a good father. And truthfully, I am not sure he even wanted to be. And I know he did things that were unforgivable; I’m aware that is how you see him, and I would not expect that to change. But even with all of that… he was all that I had left.

I realise you may not necessarily understand. My relationship with my father was… complicated, to put it mildly.” Ziva ran a hand through her hair and took a long drink. "I am so tired of burying people."

Her voice was quiet, a murmur almost to herself. He could see the fragility - hear it behind every sentence as she fought to put into words things she’d usually keep to herself. Tony continued to watch as she closed her eyes for a second before she looked back at him.

“Another drink?”

“Please.”

They hadn’t finished their current ones but Ziva got up anyway, stretching her legs out from where they’d been curled underneath her. He watched her through the hatch that separated her living area and kitchen, the thoughtful expression on her face as she popped the caps and came back in placing the two fresh bottles on the table and sitting back down a little closer to him, shoulder pressed again against his arm. Her knees almost touching his thighs.

"I may have to go back again at some point to sort through his estate. I am the only person who can. There is nobody else left now."

"I'm sorry."

"It is not like I saw him often, but it is a strange feeling. Having no-one."

"You have me."

Ziva smiled. "You are the exception, Tony. You generally are."

The words came out so easily, so without thought, that they caught Tony off-guard. His hand by now was hovering off the back of the sofa towards her rapidly-curling hair hanging half-dry on her shoulders. He reached out and touched a curl, lightly, before putting his hand back down.

“I know it’s not the same, but I do get it. My dad is no Eli but he’s all I’ve got, and I never thought I’d feel what I do now about him after what happened when I was a kid. I know how it feels to want that.”

There was a line between her eyebrows as she assessed the words, but they almost seemed to visibly relax her. “I suppose you do.”

“Funny how things turned out. I never imagined we’d turn out to have the kind of relationship we have. Or one at all, actually.”

“I am really glad you do. I cannot comment on how things were back then but I can see the love he has for you now. I think the two of you would have regretted it if you had left it too late.”

“I don’t know if I ever would’ve reached out in the way I have if he hadn’t turned up at NCIS that day. Thank god he did, huh?”

“It’s funny – I have been thinking about that a lot recently. I know you do not much believe in things like destiny and fate but I was mulling it over on the plane home - how much things could be different if something small had gone down a different path in the past."

He was going to question why she believed that about him, but he knew the answer. He'd been dismissive, in the past, when she'd tried to talk about it with him - pretending not to understand when she asked him about soulmates, or 'if you believe in that kind of thing' about things being meant to be. "Butterfly effect."

"Yes. For instance.. if my mother and father had not got divorced. Would that have affected what happened to Tali? Would I ever have ended up at NCIS? Or if Ari.." She trailed off. "It is interesting, the way one event can set us down so many paths, things we do not even think about at the time."

“Half that stuff hadn’t happened, we would never have met. If that guy hadn’t confessed this afternoon, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Exactly. It is strange to think about things that way. Although I think we would still be having this conversation – I spent my run debating whether I should go to your apartment.”

“Why?”

“To say thank you. Or sorry – whichever was more appropriate to your reaction to seeing me.”

“Come on. Deep down you knew I was never gonna be waiting for an apology.”

“Maybe that’s true.”

"What's brought all this on?"

"Schmiel."

"Oh?"

"He and I talked the night before I left Tel Aviv. About a lot of things, naturally, but he wanted to talk to me about you."

"What did he say?"

"He told me what the two of you talked about when he was over here. Not the exact words, but enough to make it clear you had left an impression on him. He said.. that I need to rely on somebody. I told him I _did_ rely on you, more than I would anyone. But he said I hold things back. He can be stubborn when he wants to be."

"It's because he loves you."

"I know. I have never been very good at accepting that. Anyway, he told me that you are honest, and loyal, and have my best interests at heart. Then he called you earnest and sincere and I told him he does not know you like I do." Ziva chuckled. "But I think maybe he was right.

And I remember what you said at the airport. I know neither of us were very good at talking about things before, but it has helped me the last couple of months. Talking about Tali with you, for instance. And I like to think it feels the same for you when we spoke about your mother. I know I should be leaning into that, rather than trying to push it away. I wish it was as simple as just acting upon it.”

Tony had known the feeling she was referring to only too well – the instinct to push back or run after being vulnerable. It wasn’t something he contended much with now. Especially not with Ziva.

“Tonight feels like as good a place as any to start.”

“Yes. I think it has been.”

“I’ll drink to that. Cheers.”

Tony clinked the head of his beer bottle against Ziva’s and they both watched each other as they took a long drink. Tony took in slightly more than he intended, and coughed.

“This beer is pretty strong.”

“I should not have too much more, I am going to the gym in the morning."

"Y'know you're allowed to have a break, right? That's what time off is for."

"I have had too much time off recently. I need to get back to normal."

"But this isn't normal, this is... you got something to train for?"

The question was weighted - a facade, the answer already known.

"Like what?"

Tony shrugged. "Marathon?"

"No. I have just let things slide a little, that is all."

They both knew it was a lie but Tony didn't follow through the charade of telling her she'd never been anything less than the pinnacle of fitness every day he'd known her.

It was there again. That change in her expression that had his shackles up, small as it was. A sign that she wasn’t going to let this go. Something was coming.

It was a strange mix. Her open vulnerability mixed with the hard nose hiding beneath, the darkness flashing just behind her eyes. He, briefly, had wondered if he was being manipulated. Whether the things she told him were simply a cover – something to placate him. He dismissed the thought quickly, though, for as much as Ziva thought she could there was no fooling him anymore. The honesty about her father, the vulnerability, the desire to be open with each other, that was all real. But there were new things she was trying to hide.

* * *

They had another drink as they continued to talk. Tony let Ziva lead the conversation still but he was adding more of his own - personal thoughts as well as questions and comments, the odd joke that sent genuine, if quiet, laughter through the air.

After one such joke she tipped her head so the side of it rested against his arm and looked up at him through her eyelashes. She was lighter now – as though a weight had been lifted.

"So what happens now?"

"Now? I have to call the office, whoever is in charge while Vance is away, and then I can have another couple of days off work. I am not sure I will take them." She watched him with a discerning eye. "What do you think?"

"If you think being in work's what you need, then go for it. We've missed you."

“I have missed you too. I think going back to work may be the best thing for me, but I will have to see what they say.”

Ziva lifted her head back off his arm and finished her drink, leaning forward to place the empty bottle on the table.

“And just so you know. Obviously you aren’t planning anything - you’ve made that clear.” Ziva turned her head back towards him, expression slightly altered, as he continued. “But, theoretically. If you were. I’m in.”

“Tony….”

“Whatever it is. Tell me the time and place. If you _were_ planning something, which you aren’t.”

“I would not ask you to do that for me.”

“You wouldn’t need to ask. You know that by now.”

“Message received.”

Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket as he felt Ziva’s eyes boring into the top of his head. It was past eleven. "It's late."

Ziva checked her watch. "I had not realised. I don't know why I am not readjusting to the time zone."

"Think you just need some sleep. Maybe you should give it a day before you call work, get some more."

“In that case, you will have to pretend you have not seen me.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Ziva reached out a hand and touched the zipper at the top of Tony’s pullover, before releasing it again and tapping her fingertips over his heart twice, three times, slowly.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She rolled her eyes but tipped forwards on her knees towards him and his arms came up to wrap around her back. She felt small, but warm, and he lifted his hand to cradle her head for the briefest of moments before she pulled back to sit on her heels. It was only a second before she leaned back in - her lips pressing to his cheek was a strangely hurried movement but then she hesitated, lips lingering on his skin for longer than necessary.

When she ceased contact she didn't pull away and he felt her inhale slowly against him. He turned his head a fraction to gauge her expression and their eyes met, just briefly, before they leaned in - the most natural feeling in the world. Their foreheads came to rest against each other and he was still watching her though her eyes were closed.

He kissed her softly but it was a fleeting moment, something that needed saying. It wasn't solely romantic, the energy between them: calm and inevitable and even a little friendly but somehow still charged, common comfort mixing with everything else very much less common that had existed between them over the years.

He leaned backwards and pressed his thumb to her chin. She tilted her head slightly towards him and gave him a sad smile that he reciprocated before withdrawing his lingering hand.

He stood up but she grabbed his wrist, her touch softening when he stopped moving.

“What are you doing?”

"The right thing.” He smiled at her. “I should get home."

"Do you want to stay?"

"Yes." The answer was quick, and honest. "But I'm not going to."

He knew leaving was the right thing to do. Anything further tonight would feel too much like taking advantage – allowing the emotionally charged conversation to mix with other, more long-lasting emotions in a way that would likely lead to a crash come morning. 

Ziva stood up opposite him, hand still encasing his wrist. "Why did you come tonight?"

"Because I care about you. And that's why I'm leaving."

Tony shrugged on his coat as Ziva collected their empty beer bottles and took them to the bin. She ran her hands through her hair, flicking her eyes around the room, before they settled back on him. He waited for a sign of what she was thinking but got nothing more than wide eyes and an unreadable expression.

“Are you gonna wish you could take all of this back in the morning?”

Ziva smiled, knowingly. “I hope not.”

Tony wasn't convinced. Aware of the possibility, though small, that the next time they saw each other she'd pretend these conversations never happened.

“Call me, OK? Once you’ve talked to work.”

“I will.”

“I can come round or we can go out for coffee or something.”

“I know your heart is in the right place, as it always is, but there is really no need. What I need is to go back to normal.”

"If you change your mind. Anything you need, you just tell me."

"You have done enough."

"Hey, what are partners for?"

A beat passed where neither of them was sure how to say goodbye until Tony took initiative and reached a hand out to Ziva's face. Her eyes widened but he simply let his hand linger on her cheek before tapping it and pulling away.

"Talk tomorrow."

He went to open the door but Ziva's hand reached in front of him, pressing over the handle until he turned back around and encased her in a hug. She ran a hand down his back and then back up to his neck, pulling his face away from her shoulder to look at him. There was a small affectionate smile on her face.

"Tomorrow."

She opened the door with a hand behind him as he pulled back, and Tony couldn't help but look back over his shoulder to catch her staring from the doorway as he disappeared down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> I changed it around a bit but the dialogue is from Marcella s1e2:  
> “Do you want to stay?”  
> “Yes. But I'm not going to.”   
> “Why did you come?”  
> “’Cos I care about you. And that's why I'm going.”


End file.
